


Light Heart

by Nyctolovian



Series: Nycto's TMA Safehouse [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: A little ooc? But in my defense neither of them are being manipulated by elias, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Animal Abuse, Animal Death, Asexual Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Awkwardness, Canon Asexual Character, Cats, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Haunted Houses, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Human/Monster Romance, ITS JONMARTIN DAY YALL, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Needs Therapy, M/M, Meet-Cute, Monster Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Moth Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Mothman, No beta we kayak like Tim, Non-Binary Jonathan Sims, POV Martin Blackwood, Romantic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, tma safehouse fest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:00:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26642614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyctolovian/pseuds/Nyctolovian
Summary: Something was there. Right outside his door. It wasn't locked.Shadows under the door gap shifted languidly, morphing in and out of the stream of light. Finally, it shifted away.Martin stayed in bed, quivering, as the thumps continued within the living room. At last, the noises stopped. But he kept his eyes and ears peeled for any movement. But nothing happened for at least fifteen minutes.Just as Martin was convinced that whoever was outside was gone, he heard something else."What was that?" came a voice from under his bed.Moth!Jon is a monster under Martin's bed. What more could you ask for?
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: Nycto's TMA Safehouse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951927
Comments: 28
Kudos: 249





	Light Heart

**Author's Note:**

> IT'S JONMARTIN DAY YALL!! It was a last minute decision to write something for today but I thought: "hey, i only have that one mid-term and overview essay due next week. I have all the time in the world to write a million fics." (i actually dont. but uh whatever lol) And there was the whole TMA Safehouse Fest going on too! So I thought I might as well use it as the day 1 prompt (meet-cute) and here we are!
> 
> Hence the birth of this fic. Also cos i love the concept of moth monster jon a lot. It's lowkey adorable. I'm just barely able to post this on the day itself (acc to my timezone cos im particular like that) so I hope it isnt too trash HAHAHA I barely have time to even read thru whatever nonsense I wrote. ((and i'm about 6 minutes late on my timezone so ARGHHHH))
> 
> Nonetheless!! Enjoy!

Martin thought he had a pretty neat deal when he bought this house.

From the outside, it looked snug and comfortable, which already ticked off some boxes in Martin’s mental checklist. It had been built with tan brick walls and had a hard cracked cement floor. Short and wide windows brightened up the house and had been added to the house in a rather playful pattern. 

The price was surprisingly low for a three-room, especially one that apparently came with some furniture left by the previous family. Sure, it was a bit of a wreck—cobwebs everywhere, carpets of dust, junk left from its previous owner, and the walls seemed to be peeling off. But it only needed some repairs and cleaning up.

Just in case though, Martin had asked the estate agent, "Why's this house selling so cheap?"

With a pleasant smile, Ms Richardson calmly replied, "This property has been on the market for quite some time and I suppose the family just wants to sell it as soon as they can now."

Martin hummed as he gave the house another once over. “I see...” he said. “So no major problems? Like a termite infestation or… I don’t know, uh, structural damage?"

Her face grew slightly stiff. "Oh! Nothing of _that_ , I assure you.” There was a brush of overemphasis on her words as her grip on her clipboard tightened a miniscule bit. “Just a slightly old house. That's all there is to it." Her sunny smile returned with vengeance.

Martin’s mouth opened to ask another question but, from the corner of his eye, he saw something dark flash across the bedroom. He spun around. 

Nothing. Just some cobwebs and the bed. He frowned. "Did you… Was that a rat?" Martin asked. “You saw that, right?”

Ms Richardson looked much tenser than a second ago. Still, she maintained her composed demeanor and said, "I don't think so. I didn't see anything."

A sigh escaped Martin. He really wished the estate agent would just be honest with him. If it was just a rat infestation, he just had to set some rat traps. The worst case scenario he could call pest control. It really wasn't something the estate agent had to lie about. It was still a fairly good deal. 

He had visited several other properties that were either in worse condition or beyond his budget. It had been tiring disappointment after tiring disappointment. Honestly, this was the best one he had found so far. This was about as good as things could get with a budget as tight as his, he figured. 

Nodding to himself, he turned to Ms Richardson and said, "I'll take it. Can I sign the papers now?"

The smile of gratification on her face was one that reached her eyes. Hastily, she pulled out the contract and shoved the pen and papers into Martin's hands. "Just sign over here, here, and… here. … Alright! Now, this house will be all yours," she said. Her voice had a tone of relief that one might have while ridding oneself of the responsibility of baby-sitting a relative's annoying toddler. 

Martin honestly should have been more wary of this. However, he was overtaken with the sheer giddiness of owning his first house. At the ripe age of 32, but no matter! A milestone was a milestone regardless. He was excited to finally have a house to his name.

As soon as Martin could move in, he dedicated a full weekend cleaning up the house, rearranging some of the furniture and applying some wallpapers to fix the peeling walls. He hadn’t spotted any pests or rats the entire duration. Nonetheless, he placed some mouse and bug traps around the house just to be safe. Then, he moved all his belongings in and settled down comfortably.

Five days living in his new house passed, and surprisingly, Martin ran into no problems. No rats; the neighbours were, well, not lovely, but at least decent; no leakages; the roof didn't collapse atop him in the middle of the night.

Nothing. Absolutely uneventful.

Things couldn't be better. 

(But it did feel a tad bit empty, living alone.)

* * *

_Bang!_

Martin jolted awake. He turned his head and looked towards his door. What was that? There was a downpour outside, and it could have been thunder but he could have sworn the noise came from within his house.

He held his breath. It was pure blood-curdling silence for what felt like hours. Just as Martin was about to pass the sound off as a figment of his imagination, he heard a soft thump outside his door. 

His breath hitched. 

Oh god. Who was that? Was it a burglar? Was it a serial killer? 

Martin's mind ran through every scenario like a video on 10 times playback speed, and every single one of them ended with him being brutally murdered. Slowly, making as little noise as possible, he pulled his sheets closer to himself. 

The crack of light under his door shifted with movement. 

His heart leapt to his throat and he choked on it. Martin lay as still as he could.

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

Something was there. Right outside his door. It wasn't locked. 

Shadows under the door gap shifted languidly, morphing in and out of the stream of light. Finally, it shifted away. 

Martin stayed in bed, quivering, as the thumps continued within the living room. At last, the noises stopped. But he kept his eyes and ears peeled for any movement. But nothing happened for at least fifteen minutes. 

Just as Martin was convinced that whoever was outside was gone, he heard something else.

"What was that?" came a voice from under his bed.

Martin strangled a cry of sheer terror. He hurled himself as far as he could from the bed. He was about to open the door but fear of whoever was possibly still outside petrified him.

Tears were streaming down his cheeks at this point as he stared at his bed. Something moved.

Oh, Jesus Christ. Something shifted under his bed.

Then, it crawled _out_.

And whatever crawled out wasn't human. 

Its shape was all wrong. There were too many appendages and what looked like half-a-metre-long antennas. As the dark figure rose from the floor, Martin recoiled. Something large on the monster's back shivered erratically for a few seconds before pressing itself to the side of its torso. It bent its body towards him, but Martin could tell that if it stood at its full height, it would be several heads taller than him, and Martin was not a short man. The only thing he could discern in the dark were the monster's eyes as they made contact with his. They were a pair of glowing green orbs that pierced through the darkness and into Martin unrelentingly. 

His chest was bursting at the seams with pain at how fast his heart was racing. He was going to die. Either from slaughter by this monster, or from a heart attack. 

The monster spoke again, "I— This— I..." One of its spindly legs a step towards Martin.

Like cornered prey, he scurried as far as he could without running straight to the serial killer outside his door. "Don't come any closer!" he hissed, backing to a corner of the room. "I've got a… I've got a…" His hand hit something that clattered against the wardrobe and he immediately grabbed and brandished it in front of him. 

A clothing hanger. It was as good a weapon as any at this point. 

"I've got a weapon!" Martin threatened, every limb trembling pathetically.

The monster took a step back. "I, uh, I didn't mean to startle you." It held its four upper limbs out in a placating manner. "I truly mean no harm," it whispered. 

"You're going to kill me!" Martin swung his makeshift weapon through the air in front of him.

"No, no! I…" The monster retracted its limbs. "I don't— I'm not going—"

 _Thump_!

The noise from the door sent the both of them scrambling to the other corner of the room. The monster huddled close to Martin and if it weren't for the second threat outside, he would have screamed bloody murder. Martin could feel a soft fuzz against his cheek as the monster crowded towards Martin.

"They're not gone!" it whispered panickedly, tugging his shirt sleeve. "What do we do?"

Roughly, Martin brushed the monster's hand aside. "We?! Since when was there a 'we'? You were about to kill me a second ago!"

"Was not!"

"Was too!"

Another thump interrupted their squabble. 

The two froze to the spot, breaths held. 

"Y-you're the one with the weapon," the monster said, pressing itself closer against the wall. "You should go."

"No, it's just a clothing hanger," he said. "You're way scarier. You go!"

"But I—"

"You can use my weapon. Here, take it," Martin said, shoving the clothes hanger into one of the monster's numerous limbs. When it took ahold of the hanger, he gave the monster a firm nudge towards the door.

It stumbled forward on its too long limbs, body hunched inward. It crept to the door and placed its hand on the knob. Slowly, gently, silently, the monster turned the doorknob and pulled the door open by a tiny fraction. Martin's fingers pressed apprehensively to his lips without him realising as it stood rigidly still at the door for four seconds. 

The thing draped over its back quivered once or twice before it slipped through the thin crack of the door. 

There was about five seconds of silence, which were far too long for Martin to handle already. So he quietly moved towards the door and peered out through the tiny gap. He couldn't see the monster anymore, but neither could he see anyone else. 

He was about to head out when he heard a loud bang and the monster shouting in shock. His legs rocketed him back towards his previous corner in a split second. His heart jackrabbit-ing and his tears of fear renewed. 

"Oh, good lord," he heard the monster go.

Which was a strange thing to hear a monster say, first of all. But, also, there was a curl of relief in its voice, delight even. So either Martin was safe, or there were two monsters that could kill him in his house now. 

A quick scan across the room revealed nothing Martin could use as a weapon now and his clothing hanger was with the monster.

Great. 

Chewing his lip, he bounced between leaping out through his window and charging through the living room. He just paid for the house and he wasn't keen on giving it up to a couple of monsters! But, rationally, he also knew dying for a house wasn't quite worth it.

Before he could come to a decision, however, the door creaked open further. In popped the monster from before, cradling something in his arms. Its two other unoccupied arms were excitedly flailing and pointing at the shivering mound it was carrying. 

"It was a cat!" it said euphorically, voice trembling ever-so-slightly. Gently, it bent down further and let the cat in its arms hop off.

Martin stared.

The cat was a small thing, probably not fully grown yet. Its fur looked slightly wet and it was quivering from the cold. In the dark, he couldn't make out the colour of its short fur, but its yellow eyes were adorably round and curious. Lithely, it twisted to look at Martin and then at the monster, before looking back at Martin again. Then, it began to paw at the chair and pushed a bag on the floor, making it fall with a soft fwump. 

"I think it's hungry," the monster said.

That snapped Martin out of his stupor. “And cold.” He looked up at it expectantly. "Uh, what do cats eat? I don't have much. Do you think canned tuna would work?"

"I… I think so? Maybe? I-I don't know."

"Um… okay. We'll just have to settle for that then," he said, heading out.

Martin came back with a plate of scooped-out tuna to a rather strange sight. Squatting and wrapping its two lower arms around his knees, the monster stroked the cat from head to back. The cat let out a content little mewl at the attention, and the monster’s eyes practically glued to the little creature.

Crouching down, Martin placed the plate on the floor and pushed it towards the cat. Loudly, it mewed and bounded towards the food. Without hesitation, it dug right in, tail high in the air with joy. He and the monster watched it as it scoffed down the food. When it was done, it yawned and then shook itself.

“I should get a towel.”

The monster hummed. "Yeah," it said softly, glowing green eyes never quite leaving the feline that was settling onto the floor now.

Martin stood up. "Can I turn the lights on?" he asked. "To, um, get the towel."

The monster shifted nervously. "Uh, sure," it said. "If… If you need to."

"You're not going to kill me after I see you in light, right?"

"Heh, no, I won't. You helped the cat after all."

"Alright then." Martin said. He pulled the pull cord to his ceiling lights and the room was bathed in bright yellow light. 

He was blinded for a second but judging by the way the monster ducked his head under its black spindly arms for a little longer and shut its eyes, it was more sensitive to the change than him. 

Under the light, Martin could see it better now, and the first thing that struck him was that it was much fluffier than he had imagined. The entire body, including the length of its four arms and two legs, were covered in thick short black fuzz. At its neck, however, its fur grew much thicker, and it was practically a scarf of the softest-looking light brown fur. And it wore a thick brown coat over its back. What he didn't expect was how… vaguely human the monster looked. Aside from the number and the fuzz, its limbs looked human. A mop of grey hair cascaded to its shoulders, with a pair of feelers drooping down to frame his face. The skin on its face was a gentle earthly shade of brown and its eyebrows were thick and bold. Then, its eyelids fluttered open and revealed the most ethereal and lovely pair of eyes.

Peridots gazed up at Martin and shivered with movement in the light. His breath caught on his throat at the sight.

A shiver passed over the brown coat draped over its back and Martin realised with a start that it wasn't a coat. They were large brown patterned wings, folded neatly behind it. Moth wings.

"Are you mothman?" Martin blurted.

The way the monster's eyes lit up was the only indication of its amusement because it didn't seem to have a mouth. Then, without a mouth, it spoke, "No, not quite." Its hand moved animatedly. "Yes, I'm, well, a moth, but not a man. And no, not exactly mothman."

"I-I see," Martin said, simultaneously unnerved and fascinated by the creature before him. "Well, then, uh… I'll grab the towel."

He opened the wardrobe and rummaged through it for his softest clean towel, which he passed to the monster.

With a curt nod, it took the towel and gingerly lifted the cat up by its belly and placed it on top of the towel. Then, it wrapped the cat like a tiny burrito and laid it on the floor as carefully as it could. The little thing yawned and its eyes slowly slid shut.

"It's sleepy," the monster offered in commentary. It reached a hand over and began to stroke the cat again. 

As the two of them watched the cat doze off, Martin found himself at a loss for words, so he reached for the most familiar set of words. "I'm Martin Blackwood by the way. Um… He/Him pronouns." Then, for god-knows-what reason, he added, "I'm human."

The monster's shoulders shook lightly with a chuckle. "Jon. Uh… Whatever pronouns… I guess, he/him as well. And, well, eldritch moth horror." 

"Jon?" Martin repeated. "That's much more normal than I would have expected."

"Yeah… My full name is Jonarathimusius Simmsoniumon." 

Martin's jaw dropped. "Piss off! There's no way that's a real— You made that one up on the spot."

"I did _not_."

"Alright, but that means you came up with that name at some point in your life and that's incredibly questionable behaviour."

Jon folded his arms. "I'll have you know, I didn't come up with my name. I was just… born with it?"

"What, so you just—" Martin let his jaw hang as he flailed his arms about to find the words "—popped into existence and just knew your full name?"

"That's exactly right actually," Jon replied. If he had a mouth, he'd have the most shit-eating grin on his face.

"How does that even work? How did you even come into being? I just… I have so many questions." 

There was a slight frown on Jon's face. He pressed a finger to his chin. "Honestly, I really don't know much myself. I just woke up one day and I just… knew things."

"How did you… become born? I mean, humans, we have to do…"

"Things, yes," he said, the disgust in his voice signalling he knew what Martin was getting at and didn't wish to entertain the thought any further. 

"Things," he repeated. "I just want to know is there some sort of… monster-creating god. A witch? Or some monster factory?"

Jon’s eyebrows slid up. "Monster factory?"

"Oh, shut up. How the hell would I know?" Martin pouted.

"Monsters are a manifestation of, well, other being's emotions and beliefs. If there is enough fear and horror in something, a being will simply just… come into existence, I suppose. There isn't some sort of order that I'm privy to unfortunately." 

"Huh," Martin said, sitting on his bed. "And where did you come from?"

"Uh…" Jon curled up tighter around himself. "There was a kid who lived here. Jude Perry was her name. She, well, she loved…"

"She loved moths?"

"Burning, burning moths."

"Oh."

"Yeah. She enjoyed pinching moths by their wings and slowly burning them at a candle. I was a manifestation of… the moths' fears."

"That's…" Martin frowned. "That's awful."

Jon leaned his head against his knees. "Yeah. I woke up in the living room of this house, where she was burning the moths, and when she saw me… Let's just say the moths never had their vengeance because the family quickly moved right out."

Martin winced. "Would you have?"

"Hm?" Jon blinked.

"Would you have taken vengeance? Given the chance?"

"I… I don't know," Jon said. "I gave her quite a scare already when I emerged in her bedroom. But… vengeance per se, I'm unsure. I came into existence as a result of the moths' fears… not rage. We're far too timid to hold enough anger to manifest a monster through it."

"So you're the reason why this house was so cheap." 

"I, well," he let out a chuckle, "I suppose I am."

"Are you bound to this house or something?"

"Hm? Oh, no," he shook his head, causing his feelers to sway gently in front of him. "I can leave whenever. But I just… I don't know where I could go. I've only ever known this place and wherever I look it's just lit streets after lit streets. I… don't think I will do too well out there. Especially if I get spotted."

"Can't you fly?"

Jon let out a sigh and leaned back slightly. "My wings are fairly useless to be honest. It can't hold my weight. I can perhaps hover a metre above the ground but not much else.”

"Right," Martin murmured. Jon was rather large. It would take a lot to lift him off the ground. "That's… That's quite sad." 

The two of them watched the tiny creature swaddled in towel sleep, its body rising and falling with its warm slumber.

“Hey,” Martin said, breaking the silence. He reached for his phone on his bedside table. "I could— um, I could search for the quickest and safest route to wherever you want. I-If you want."

The wings on Jon's back fluttered lightly and iridescent green eyes grew wide with surprise. “You would?”

“Anywhere you want to go,” Martin said, smiling reassuringly.

Jon’s hands curled into animated fists as he shuffled closer to Martin on his other arms and leaned over his shoulder. 

Martin pulled out Google Maps and zoomed out for an overview of the area. “Where do you want to go?”

“I want—” Jon’s fists fell slowly to his side as he stared blankly at the phone screen. “I… I actually don’t know.”

“There’s a forest nearby.”

Jon’s face scrunched up slightly. “That sounds awful. Especially with this downpour.”

“Hm… An abandoned car park maybe?”

Hesitance flickered over Jon’s peridot eyes and his wings pressed a little closer to his body. 

“No?”

“I… I don’t think so.” He looked down at his knees. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be!” Martin said. “Take your time.”

Just then, the snoozing cat let out a little mewl, and its paws stretched upwards and waved in the air. Jon practically melted into a puddle and he cooed softly and leaned forward to take in the adorable sight. 

“Or,” Martin cleared his throat nervously. “I mean… Um… I don’t know. Maybe… I might need some help with cat-sitting. If… If you’re okay with that.” His hands shot up. “Only if you want! No pressure! I… I really don’t mind!”

The moth monster’s eyes lit up and his feelers lifted slightly in what looked like glee. As though suddenly remembering himself, he ducked his head sheepishly and muttered, “I… I would like that. Actually.”

Martin felt heat slowly fill his cheeks and he found himself looking away as well. _How ridiculous_ , he thought to himself. But he couldn’t deny the little flutter in his heart when he imagined what it might feel like, not being so lonely anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. Yes, jon is scared sad moth bean and Martin's protective of this monster. Also, i usually headcanon him as smol but whats the point of a monster if it isnt tol eldritch horror? So now he's super tall. Hope yall enjoyed this! And happy jonmartin day yall. It's the only day we can be happy. (At the point of writing this, i havent heard the latest ep but i saw some jonmartin moments and gOD THEYRE ADORBS)
> 
> Find me [here](https://nyctolovian.tumblr.com) on tumblr. I love jonmartin with all my heart. Also, Kudos and comments will be much appreciated ^^


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